


Nightcall

by Airie



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Angst and Humor, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Edgy Sans, F/M, Overwatch - Freeform, mercykill - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-02
Updated: 2016-08-09
Packaged: 2018-07-19 15:46:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,987
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7367731
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Airie/pseuds/Airie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mercy is contacted by an ex-Talon mercenary, who promises information on the terrorist organization in exchange for protection.</p><p>But when she arrives to take him in things get... grim.</p><p>Mercy x Reaper</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Los Angeles. A multicultural wonder of entertainment and glitz. Energetic, exciting… and a bit too loud for Angela's taste. But duty, not leisure, called her here. She came to the City of Angels for a movie premiere, the Six-Gun Killer. There was nothing remarkable about the movie itself, but rather its director - an omnic. Given that an omnic advocate of peace between humans and machines was recently assassinated in London, things were tense.

This was not official Overwatch business, as there was no Overwatch to speak of. Six years ago, when the Swiss Headquarters and the organization went to hell... No, there was no point in dwelling on ancient history. She was here unofficially, as a courtesy to a colleague she had in UN diplomacy.

Thankfully, the premiere went without an incident. After a courtesy drink with Hal-Fred Glitchbot doctor Ziegler, also known as Mercy, returned to her hotel room. Meeting the director was an interesting experience, but duty called again - she was needed elsewhere. Iraq to be more precise.

Mercy kicked her high heels off with relief - the tang of champagne was still in her mouth. It was nice to taste a bit of luxury, but she had work to do.

She undressed, slipping into a fuzzy hotel bathrobe. Just as she was about to call it a night, her private mobile ringed. It was an unknown number, which was enough to arouse suspicion - there was no reason anyone other than her closest contacts would know this number.

She answered the call hesitantly, already not liking this. An unknown face appeared on the screen of the device. A young man of mixed ethnicity. She could only see him from shoulders up, but she instantly recognized him as a mercenary.

"You're Overwatch, right?" He immediately asked, not bothering with introductions. He was clearly on the run and frightened of something.

"Who are you, how did you get this number?" She demanded incredulously.

"I'm with Talon. Well… was." The merc explained, taking a pause to look over his shoulder. By his surroundings Ziegler could guess he was in the woods.

"What do you want?"

"Listen, lady, my life is on the line!" The man confessed. "He's going to kill me!"

"Who?"

"Our strike commander, the guy's insane! H-he's got some grudge against you guys, won't stop at nothing to get his hands on ex-Overwatch! I-I didn't want to stick around after seeing how he operates. And now he's out to get me!"

"That's your problem." She scoffed. Although earning the codename 'Mercy', Angela had no intention of wasting her compassion on those who did not deserve it. Especially Talon mercenaries - regardless if present or former.

"Look, you have no reason to help me, but I swear, if you take me in, a prisoner of war or something, I'll give you all the dirt on Talon I have." He promised, his voice full of desperation.

"Where are you?"

"The observatory at Griffith Park. Hurry!" The mercenary ushered, before abruptly cutting off. 

Angela put the device away with a heavy sigh. It was stupid to rush in alone to a secluded location. This could be a trap, former Overwatch agents had more than enough enemies worldwide.

But she was not without an advantage of her own. Namely, her Valkyrie swift-response suit that she had stored in a secure container in the next room.

\---

The merc shrugged, unsure if the doc believed him or not. But he had nowhere else to turn to. He'd rather rot in jail for the rest of his life, than be hunted by Talon. And after seeing first-hand of what the strike commander was capable of, he knew the hunt wouldn't take long.

He walked out of the woods into a clearing, then crossed the path to the observatory. He halted, suddenly realizing the unnatural silence. The hairs on the back of his neck rose in attention.

He bolted, crossing the neatly trimmed grass in front of the observatory. The door was locked tight for the night. He forced it open with a kick - hysterical panic giving him a sudden boost in strength.

He passed the lobby when it was too late - the air around him thickened, slowing him down.

"No…!" He croaked, feeling the ominous presence getting closer. "Not like this!" He cried, reaching for his sidearm, and turning around to face the inevitable.

"Death comes for all." The darkness impassively said, closing in on him, suffocating his screams.

\---

Angela could take a cab and then walk, but her outfit would arouse too much suspicion. And more importantly - she had no time to lose. She chose to suit up and fly.

She zipped up to the cable-car station, a few minutes of walk from the observatory. The lights of LA glimmered behind her. If she had any time to spare, she would take a moment to admire the view.

Nearing the entrance, she felt unease, like she was watched. But she knew that an attack wouldn't happen in the open terrain, where she could fly away from danger.

No, whatever would happen will take place within the observatory. Lo and behold, the main door was ajar.

\---

After disposing of the troublesome merc, he had no reason to stick around. Not even for the view of his home city, which conjured up so many memories.

And yet he wanted to know who the pathetic maggot begged for help, so he reached for the mobile device on the ground. He could not believe the number on the screen. Doctor Ziegler. How did that coward get her number? That didn't matter. He had to stay and wait if she shows up. He couldn't pass up this opportunity.

And what if she does come? She was on his list, even if she was not a priority, he made no exceptions. Best to trust his instincts and wait. He'll decide what to do once he sees her.

Some time passed when he heard a subtle chime - Valkyrie wings. Unbelievable. The doctor was here, in LA of all places. And again, she was poking her sweet face into his business. But this time, unknowingly.

Before he could decide what's next, she entered the observatory. Good, hope she likes the gift he left for her.

\---

It wouldn't be wise to illuminate the interior with her staff - she'd be too easy to spot. Then again, her heels could be heard without much effort. A single point of warm glow from the tip of the caduceus helped her see clearly where she was going. 

There were prints on the polished marble floor - heavy military boots painted in mud and grass. Mercy followed the path until reaching a large semicircular window.

A man, no doubt the mercenary who called her, stood motionlessly, his back facing her. He seemed to be completely preoccupied with the vista in front of him. 

"I'm here. Let's go." She said, but there was no answer.

Already knowing this will turn out grim, she put her hand on the man's shoulder and turned him to face her. 

"Gott im Himmel…" She whispered, seeing his face before he toppled - a pale, drained husk with blind eyes and mouth opened wide for a scream that never came.

Talon got to him first, which confirmed her suspicion - she wasn't alone. Was this a set up? Did they cut this poor soul loose to lure her out? Or was she simply too late and they got to him first… and now wanted to kill two birds with one stone?

If there was going to be a fight, she couldn't let herself get grounded - she had to get out of here! And just as that thought crossed her mind, she realized the light form her staff was growing dim. Or rather, the darkness in the building got… thicker.

Instead of taking the foolish route and going back the way she came, Angela chose to shoot her way out. Glass shattered, in a blink she felt fresh air and wind in her face.

This wasn't over yet. Talon. The way the merc died. And what he said over the call…

"Our strike commander, the guy's insane! H-he's got some grudge against you guys, won't stop at nothing to get his hands on ex-Overwatch!"

The profile fit only one notorious terrorist - the Reaper.


	2. Chapter 2

"So it's a chase. Good." He purred excited, following her as a cloud of pure shadow and smoke. He was glad this wasn't going to be that easy. The doc always had her wits about her, so cornering her without effort would be just insulting.

Ziegler made the fatal mistake of looking over her shoulder. That moment of hesitation was enough for the black cloud to reach her. The darkness pulled her in, smothering, suffocating, sucking the life out of her. 

"Never!" She protested, channeling her staff with light. The darkness retreated with a growl. The sound made her stomach tighten. 

Regaining her composure, she floated a few meters away. Meanwhile, the black cloud morphed into a human form, but it was still ethereal from the waist down. The only point of brightness was an ominous skeletal mask, faintly resembling an owl. 

"You look like you've seen a ghost." He said, amused by the immediate effect he had on people. His voice sounded gritty with a faint echo - indeed like a ghost. Immediately he dodged to the side, else his mask would get smashed by Mercy's staff. "Isn't that used for healing?" He taunted the futile blow.

"Not when I ram it through your eye." Angela assured, ready for anything.

What was he? Human? Omnic? Something in between? The feedback from her halo suggested a biological organism, but there was something not right. One after another, she was getting alerts in the exact same looping order: ALIVE - LOSING HEALTH - DEAD - HEALING - ALIVE. The systems in her suit were going crazy from the rapid changes his body was going through in a matter of seconds. Was this some clever jamming? An unknown cloaking system?

"No…" She finally realized she saw this pattern before. She created this pattern. "It's you."

"My reputation precedes me." He boasted, pleased by the recognition. 

"Gabriel." 

The very sound of that name set him off. Gabriel was dead! He was the Reaper, and it was her doing! Mercy didn't bother with talking sense to him - he was too furious to reason with. She dodged the first shot, the second missed her shoulder by an inch. She dashed towards the trees, staying in the air was a death sentence.

She was nearly under cover when the third shot reached its target; her left wing. The world did a barrel roll, the top branches snapped loudly when she fell through them. Thankfully, emergency systems in her suit broke the fall, allowing a gentler landing. Angela picked herself up, adrenaline was doing its thing.

There was no room for sentiment - she ejected both the damaged and intact wing from the suit's frame - they were too cumbersome to maneuver between the trees. She had her staff, blaster and halo - more than enough to have any chance at all.

There was silence, but Mercy knew this was only to lull her into a false sense of relief. Reaper was out there - her own creation, back from the dead with a burning lust for revenge. Did she make a mistake six years ago? She lost so much that horrible day… When she stumbled upon Gabriel among the rubble - she acted. First, no harm, that was her life motto. But… did she go too far in her attempts to save him? He was in agony, when she got him on the operating table there were no vital signs. Desperation lead her to last resorts - experimental nanomedicine. And when she was done…

She snapped back to reality just in time to dodge another shot. Splinters rained form above when he fired a cannonade into the trees. He didn't want her dead… yet. He wanted her to lose her cool and panic. Reaper loved the thrill of the hunt and bit of dramatization. Mercy's brow twitched as she rolled and ducked. Even after death, some things did not change.

Unaware of his abilities, she stayed too long in one place, expecting him to arrive from the direction the shots came. Although Angela listened in on movement in front, she hadn't focused on what was going on at her six. But even if she did, she had no chance to hear Reaper surface form the ground just one step behind her. 

\---

A perfect end to a good hunt - Mercy was frightened, yet unharmed. She was unaware of his presence and she had no means of escape without her wings. He had her! He could just reach out and grab her by the hair, then… Then what?

Like a dog that chases after cars, he had no idea what to do once he catches his prey. Spare her the ordeal and just get it over with executioner style - bullet to the back of the head? No, what was the fun in that? This was a chance meeting, nothing he planned himself. He decided to graciously spare her life… tonight. 

But he couldn't pass up the opportunity to confront her. To let doctor Ziegler witness how her good intentions turned out. To see the shock on that perfectly tranquil face… And to mess with her.

Mercy screamed when he grabbed her by the wrists and twisted behind her back like a professional. The staff rolled away beyond her reach. 

"Any last words?" He asked mockingly.

Of course she struggled, she'd never give up, even if her situation was hopeless. Laughing softly at her futile attempt he let her wiggle away a bit, before pulling back. For a second her behind brushed against his groin. 

"What happened to you?" Ziegler asked in disbelief, looking over her shoulder. Gabriel was never an overly gentle man, but learning he was the Reaper was just too much. 

"You tell me, doc. You did this to me." He emphasized, his grip tightened. 

Mercy sighed in pain, but didn't give up. She kicked blindly; her heel hitting Reaper's shin. He gasped, more surprised than hurt; she had little physical force but never lacked in spirit. Plus, he had armor.

"Don't blame me for your shortcomings. Blackwatch's abuses, the catastrophe in Zurich, and now Talon? All your doing. All your decisions!" She struck back.

"I envy you. So pure, so oblivious of what was really going on inside Overwatch. But I guess they needed someone with a pretty face for the posters and someone behind the shadows… doing the real work." He hissed venomously.

"And by 'pretty face' you obviously don't mean me." Angela guessed. Here we go again, the ridiculous rivalry between Jack and Gabriel, that continued beyond the grave!

"Morrison…" He said that name as if it were a particularly obscene slur. "I can't wait to get my hands on him. Because we both know he survived, they never found his body."

"You two should get a room." Angela sighed. With Gabriel, even revenge had a hint of sexual tension.

"In due time." He assured, locking her wrists in one hand, the other reached to stroke her cheek. Mercy twitched feeling the steel talons on the tips of his gauntlet. "But why spoil the mood?" He inquired, his chin rested on her shoulder. "Let's focus on us."


	3. Chapter 3

Did he want to murder or fuck her?! Perhaps both? Ziegler collected herself with strain. Come on, just a few minutes ago you were fighting for your life, don't let your guard down now… Damn!

"Didn't you want a revenge?" She breathed, ignoring how his talons trailed down her cheek and neck, obviously heading towards her chest.

"Not tonight." He assured, groping her breast. "You still don't wear underwear?" He noticed, pinching her nipple.

"I need to have full synchronization with my suit!"

"Mhmmm..." He didn't sound convinced, running his finger from side to side, cutting the chestpiece like paper.

"Ah!" Mercy gasped, disturbed by of how easily it gave in.

"It'll only hurt if you fight." He assured, groping her breasts, hard enough to leave bruises afterwards, but not cutting through the skin. His talons stung nonetheless.

"He could slit my throat with those if he wanted to!" A panicked thought ran through her head.

And yet she grinded against him, feeling the pleasant tingling in her lower abdomen. The tiny voice of reason tried to talk some sense into her - this is not the man you once knew, he's an international terrorist, you saw his last victim's body, he's out for all your friends, he will eventually try to kill you. Stop it. You'll regret this later.

"Let me go…" Angela pleaded, arching back. " I won't run." She promised, giving in to what she wanted to do, not what she should do.

"Well… you're cornered anyway" he agreed. "Let's just get rid of this…" he added, unstrapping the blaster from her thigh and tossing away.

Finally, blood came back to her hands! Mercy rubbed them methodically, looking over her shoulder. Reaper leaned nonchalantly against a tree, arms crossed, head tilted to the side. Whatever would happen next - if she'd decide to run after all, or come to him - he'd be pleased.

She hadn't aged a day since he last saw her. How old was she now? Something around late thirties? Unbelievable, she looked like a twenty year old. But he wasn't surprised. If she could raise the dead, keeping herself from aging seemed trivial. As cliché as it sounded, she had the face of an angel and a body that could make anyone, man or woman, beg for sin. 

Though she couldn't see his face, she knew it was him. She'd recognize that stance anywhere - relaxed on the surface, but ready to attack. Gott, even if he was fully clad, his build was alluring. Masculine, but somehow he could pull off that hourglass figure, especially the lower body - round hips and thighs so thick they could snap someone's neck effortlessly.

Losing all inhibitions, Mercy walked towards him. Her hands rested on his hips, while she peered up to see past the mask. But there as only blackness.

"Take it off. I want to see you." She asked, looking at where his lips should be.

"Haha… no."

"Then how do you expect this to work?"

"Well, first you're going to drop on your knees and suck me off. Then I'll ride you like you always loved it, remember? Rough and from behind." 

Angela wanted to protest, but that would make her a hypocrite. Like a good girl, she did what she was told - got on her knees and proceeded to undo his pants. 

Oh, they had sex before. Good old Gabe was a slut for everyone. Herself, McCree, Morrison… if Ana wasn't focused 100% on raising her daughter, she would probably come to daddy Reyes for some too. These were good, simpler times. When Overwatch was one big happy family… with some of the family members fucking like crazy every once in a while.

Finally, she found the zipper hidden under several belts. She undid it with her teeth - a small habit she picked up thanks of him. For a second she fondled with the leather, finally freeing his cock. Dear god…!

"Is there something wrong?" He mocked. "Not how you remembered it?"

No. Not how she remembered it. His skin had none of the familiar warm olive tone - he was pale, with a grey hue. Like a corpse. The veins were dark, almost black and awfully thick. 

Before she could say anything, Reaper grabbed her by the halo and forcefully rammed his half-erect cock down her throat. Angela gagged, but endured. Holding on for support, she grabbed him behind the knees just above the boots. She felt no pulse under the popliteal artery. And he was cold, so cold in her mouth.

He had no vital signs, but that didn't keep him from viciously fucking her face, gradually growing thicker and harder. How could he do this despite no pulse?! Was this a matter of sheer willpower?

"Second thoughts?" He asked, pulling out to let her speak. The way she stiffened hadn't eluded him.

"No." She replied, swallowing hard. 

"Good."

Gentler, almost tenderly, he slid back between her lips, warming up from her mouth's heat. Mercy took the lead, deep-throating him slowly. Despite all reason, she didn't care anymore. Her pussy was already dripping under the suit. She wanted him, even if it was just a shadow of Gabriel… For old times sake. 

Angela had great technique. Not just the way she worked her tongue and lips, but also the subtle things she did. Soft sighs, holding on tightly to his legs while her chest grinded against him… And the way she looked - helpless but ready to please and hungry for more. And there was a lot more to come.

"Your turn." He decided, pulling her to lay next to him on the soft mossy ground.

"Not even a kiss?" She complained, reaching to jerk him off.

She was growing frustrated that she couldn't see his face and feel him use his mouth on her. He could do wonders with his tongue back in the day. She had fond memories of Gabriel making her cry and beg to let her come after long, exhausting sessions of oral play. He didn't need to lick her pussy to make her melt - his tongue in her mouth was enough to get her off. 

"No." He replied drily, groping her crotch. "Hold still."

She bit her lip when the talons cut open the material covering her pussy. Her heart raced from anticipation. 

"For better synchronization?" He guessed, looking down at the smoothly shaven skin. Tsk tsk, she was already overflowing. 

"For myself."

"Fair enough." He agreed, encircling her clit with the cold steel tips, then heading lower. 

"Wait! No, stop!" Mercy protested, realizing his intentions. Having those talons ruin her suit was one thing. But having them inside her was too much!

In response Reaper grabbed her by the hair and yanked her head back.

"Don't make this difficult for yourself." He almost purred. "I'd hate to hurt you at this point."

The coldness slipped lower, then pushed inside - just one finger, but clad in thick leather, carbon fiber and steel. The sensation was electrifying - she felt the exact spot of the tip, but the pressure was gentle enough to tease, not cause harm. Meanwhile, his thumb pricked he clit. Mercy fidgeted a bit, but only for the dramatic effect. She was relaxed and eager enough for the talons to feel good.

"A bit to the left. Yes, right there…" She cooed, getting back to jerking him off. She was happy he didn't let go of her hair - she didn't want to embarrass herself by asking him to keep a firm hold of her.

Even through the gauntlet he could feel her heat. Same for the slender hand that was stroking his cock. Angela was always so full of life and warmth. It'll be a shame when they meet next time and he has to put out that flame… He'll make it quick and painless. For old times sake.

He didn't want to wait anymore, he had to feel her from the inside. Mercy had no patience either - her clutch was painfully tight.

"I want you." She breathed, swallowing pride with strain. "I don't care how, just… Just now!"

"Bend over for me."

No matter how many times he witnessed that view - heart shaped ass and flushed pussy facing him - he had to take a moment to appreciate it. She had that effect on him, even after death. That second of awe, before retreating to a state of wild craze. 

Reaper slammed his palms on her ass, then spread her cheeks. Mercy bit her lip when he tested her entrance. Less than an inch, but it almost made her collapse. Come on, she couldn't be readier! Spare her the dramatic pause! 

"OH!" She screamed when the whole length and girth sunk inside her in one stroke. He was rock-hard and ice-cold. The engorged veins scrapped her walls, stretching her like no one had in a long time. Angela let out another pleased cry, pushing back against him, forcing Reaper to get a better grip on her lest she takes over the lead.

"You're hurting me…" She noted, feeling a sharp stinging sensation on her hips and thighs when he finally lost his cool and held her too rough, cutting into her flesh. "… But don't go easy on me!"

"Like that was ever an option."

Keeping the rapid pace he rested on her, pinning down with his weight. Mercy's hands clawed at the ground, his pressed hard against her lower abdomen, feeling the bulge his cock made from the hard thrusts. Her tight warmth pervaded into him, making him feel almost alive. 

"Can you come inside? Please come inside me…!" Angela begged, her senses melting away. If he could get hard despite no pulse, then maybe…?

"Make me."

Suddenly, he disappeared in a burst of black only to reappear under her so that Mercy was straddling him. She picked up the pace, riding Reaper energetically. Pleased by her enthusiasm, he tugged at the edge of the cut on her chestpiece, tearing the material off and completely ruining her suit. She didn't care anymore, bouncing up and down on his rod, slamming her ass hard against his pelvis. So forcefully, that she definitely was hurting her cervix.

She was close, she always had that tell - biting on her curled index finger, like she was trying to keep herself from revealing a shameful secret.

"Don't be shy." He encouraged, flicking her nipple.

She dug her nails into his shoulders and arched her back, letting herself go, having a loud messy orgasm. Stronger, now that she had a familiar partner under her. Her pussy closed in on him hard, the hot wetness enveloping him… Death literally came a second later. Angela breathed loudly when his cum shot inside, filling her womb with thick coldness. Still craving, she rose then lowered herself harder, forcing it deeper. Then again, and again, until she got lightheaded and had to rest on his chest until she comes back to her senses. 

The afterglow was fading. Mercy slowly realized she can't go back to the hotel looking like this - her suit ripped into shreds, cuts on her hips, thighs and ass, makeup ruined from giving a rough blowjob and come dripping out of her. Well, there was the dead merc in the observatory, his gear would do. The blaster and staff were somewhere nearby, her wings wouldn't be hard to find either. She could apply self-medication and get out of this without scars… Ok, she had a plan. But she still needed a few minutes to regain her strength. 

But what about him? What will he do now? Are they just going to say goodbye and go on their separate ways? Or would he change his mind at the last moment…

"I always had a soft spot for you doc." He confessed stroking her twitching back, lazily moving his hips. "I'll come for you last."

Too bad he had to leave her now. He was just getting comfortable. But he had things to do. People to kill. She wasn't getting off him, though. Of course. She won't just let it go… 

"I can't let you leave without seeing your face." She said looking up, her eyes had that familiar fire. 

"Of course you can't." He sighed. "Fine." He agreed before she could plea again. Let her have it! "Go ahead. Indulge"

Mercy's hands trembled when she reached to slip her fingers under the mask. She lifted it up effortlessly - it wasn't fastened by any means. Another mystery of how he functioned.

Though she knew he wouldn't look the same as she remembered him, she let out a gasp finally seeing her handiwork. His face was human, but it was not of a living person's. The skin of his face was also pale, ghastly grey with black protruding veins. 

But it was the eyes that made Mercy realize she created a monster.

He smiled, seeing her this shocked, uncovering his sharp teeth. Black vapor escaped the corners of his mouth.

"Don't forget. You're responsible for this." He murmured sweetly, sitting up and cradling the back of her head so she could get a closer, more personal look.

She opened her mouth to say something, but he would have none of it. He pulled Mercy closer, embracing tightly, like death itself. His tongue - too long and agile to be normal - slipped in her mouth, muffling a shriek. He kissed her deeply, if the way his tongue coiled around hers could be called a kiss. Her eyes were wide open, locked with his the whole time. 

She tossed, fighting to escape his grasp, giving Reaper a dark sense of satisfaction. Yes, dear doctor, this is how your good intentions turned out. His hunger for confrontation was finally sated. He had his fun. He'll cherish this night. The shocked, defiant, lustful and eventually terrified looks on her face will keep him going for a long, long time. 

Reluctantly, he broke their morbid kiss to have a final look at her. Angela was speechless, her lower lip trembled. But to Reaper's demise fear passed, washed over by… sympathy. Her eyes filled with tears as she reached to touch his cheek.

"Gabriel, I'm so…"  
Seeing her soften and her voice tear up set him into another fit. His eyes sparked menacingly. But he didn't strike. Before she could finish whatever sentimental nonsense she had to say, he disappeared in another burst of blackness, this time for good. The wind carried his angry howl into the night. 

The only thing he left behind was the mask on Mercy's lap.

"… sorry."


End file.
